


A Time And A Place

by bornof_sorrow (wintersfire)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-07
Updated: 2010-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersfire/pseuds/bornof_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aimeric avoids Jord who realises some important things. Pure schmoop for lusiology 's birthday. Many happy returns hun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time And A Place

  


Title: A Time And A Place  
Beta: the fabulous and fast transfixeddream Thank you fella.  
Characters: Jord/Aimeric, mention of Laurent.  
Rating: R for one swear.  
Word count: 1000 or so  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to freece I have taken non-canonical liberties with them for my own amusement.

Summary: Aimeric avoids Jord who realises some important things. Pure schmoop for lusiology 's birthday. Many happy returns hun.

 

Jord had not seen Aimeric all day. In fact he hadn't been within five feet of him since Aimeric had left his tent two mornings before, slipping out into the cool pale dawn with hardly a sound.

Jord paused in his task and the mare whinnied gently at him, urging him to continue. Automatically Jord began again to stroke the dandy brush over her flanks, the repetitive movements hypnotic and calming.

He had glimpsed Aimeric that morning whilst the company went about their daily tasks after another long night of wariness, speculation and argument. They were all restless, waiting for the precarious political balance to tip into battle and maybe civil war. Jord shook his head and soothed the mare. What were the concerns of his betters to him? As long as he had a horse, a sword and his strength he would find service, although he hoped to continue with the Crown Prince's household: he was fond of Laurent and had a care to see him succeed against the Regent. His sombre thoughts made his hand stroke too hard and the roan skittered away in reproof. Muttering soothing nonsense under his breath, he waited for her to steady and continued with her grooming.

It was not like Aimeric to disappear so. He was bold and keen and often waylaid Jord with some excuse for a kiss or to press his slim hard body against his own. Jord's mind skipped away from the thought that he had missed those attentions and felt a dull throb of worry begin at his temples.

Through the stable door the usual bustle of the yard continued and Jord noticed absently that the twilight was deepening to a soft navy blue. Starlings beginning their roost chittered and circled the yard. He finished his task and settled the mare back in her stall. Once he had stored away the tack he decided he would look for Aimeric.

By the time he had looked in a couple of likely places about the camp and passed the time of day with those who called out greetings and reported a list of duties done, the dull throb had become a steady pounding. He climbed the deep stone steps of the keep and glimpsed a shadow by the northern watchtower. The shadow moved into a shaft of moonlight and Jord felt his shoulders sag when he recognised Aimeric. Something about the set of his jaw and the stiff angle of his arms warned Jord to move quietly and he adopted the smooth steady gait he used when approaching an unfamiliar horse, wary of sharp hooves and the danger of a tossing head.

“Aimeric.”

The other man jerked his head at Jord's low voice and turned away to stare out over the battlements.

“Go away. Must I always be at your beck and call?” he threw back at Jord, every line of his body tense and sharp. Jord wanted to smile at that show of petulance, but he bit back the various retorts he would have made in other, more playful, circumstances.

“What is wrong lad?” Jord used a calm but determined tone. Auguste had always responded to it and the present Crown Prince, although both had been initially reluctant to take his guidance.

At that Aimeric turned on Jord and he quivered with anger. “Lad? Lad? That is all I will ever be to you! You do not see me as a man grown. Am I some babe to be dandled by you real soldiers?”

Jord tried not to gape at Aimeric. There were a number of hurts in that outburst and Jord was at a loss to know which to tackle first. He could feel the tiredness of the day roll through his body and fight against the fiery sting that the sharpness and anger provoked. He was getting too old for this. It was his own fault for taking up with a man far too young for him, and aristocratic and highly strung at that.

Aimeric must have seen something of these matters in his face because he came forward, almost within kissing distance, and spat more words at Jord. “Don't. Don't you dare. I am sick of hearing how young I am, how easily provoked, how volatile. I am a man grown and sick to the stomach of all those who seek to control me!”

Aimeric paused, drawing in deep breaths, his chest heaving with emotion and crumbled control. Jord narrowed his eyes. He wanted to push Aimeric up against the broad stones of the grey wall and show the lad how he enjoyed being controlled; he wanted to go to his tent and take his rest; he wanted to wrap his arms around Aimeric and soothe him, heartbeat to steady heartbeat and with the calm of sanctuary between them. But trust was needed for those things so Jord swallowed his sigh and put aside his weariness.

“You are a man grown. You have proved it to me many times. What makes you doubt it?”

Aimeric did not answer immediately but paced back and forth. Jord waited silently and watched Aimeric struggle with whatever concerned him until at last he stilled and turned to speak.

“I have heard from home.” He stopped and flicked a glance at Jord before turning back to look over the battlements. Jord considered the possibilities.

“Your Grandfather has heard talk about you?”

“Us. Yes.” His tone was flat, intentionally emotionless. Jord could still hear the hurt in it, nonetheless.

“And?”Jord prompted, unwilling to step onto such treacherous ground.

“And he warns me that what little of his lands were due to me, what miserly income I could expect, are lost forever if I continue.” Aimeric turned and glared at Jord, pitching to explode at the slightest misstep.

Jord could feel his gut clench unpleasantly. So as suddenly as it began, it would end. He was surprised how much that thought pierced him and he laughed under his breath and rubbed the wound at the back of his thigh where he had been pierced in some forgotten skirmish when he was foolhardy and reckless. Aimeric was still waiting, still ready to be hurt.

“What are your plans?” Jord heard his voice sound calm and reasonable and he marvelled at himself.

“Win prizes, make my name, honour my family and serve The Crown Prince. As I do now. As I have done every day since I came here. I does not matter who I fuck.” He pushed off from the wall and walked to Jord. Jord could smell the sweat of his body and feel the heat of his breath. Aimeric waited and it felt like the very air had stilled in the space between them and the whole world had become these few feet of stone.

Words and thoughts collided in Jord’s mind and he struggled to sift them, to make sense of their clamour. Suddenly all he knew was that this man, this lordling, this soldier was more than these separate beings to him. Somehow in the months and days, through the trials of the company’s progress he had wrapped himself in Jord, entwined around him and made them one. It had happened unconsciously for Jord but he was wise enough to see that he had welcomed the easing of the ache in his heart, the soothing of the loneliness he had carried for so many years. He knew, then, what Aimeric needed to hear.

Jord slipped one arm around Aimeric’s narrow waist and pulled him closer, the other he used to tilt his head towards his own so their eyes could meet.

“Did I ever tell you about my land? It was a reward from the old King for service in a bloody fight. It is a small, hardy place but big enough to support one or two. My people grow good crops there and one day, if I live to be old bones, I will sit by my fireside and talk about the battles of my youth. I’ll tell tall tales about my adventures and they that live with me will smile and indulge me.”

“But what does this meant to me?” Aimeric's voice was rough as if it hurt to speak.

“There will be a place there at that fireside, however great or little your fortune, however life takes you. A place for you, with me.”

Aimeric closed his eyes for a moment and, drawing in a deep breath, looked back into Jord's. Then he smiled and Jord felt his heart lurch in his chest. He could feel the life of its beat in every part of him until he knew the steadiness of the earth beneath him and hoped it would never leave him.

Aimeric pressed his smooth cheek into Jord's palm and laughed. "But you will be so old by then, perhaps I will fancy a younger man to warm my bed."

Jord stroked his thumb over Aimeric's fine cheekbone and smiled. "Perhaps you will at that. In the meantime...?"

And Aimeric answered simply, "Yes."

The End.

Sorry if I have spammed you with earlier edits - not sure how I managed to post two versions on the same page - oops.


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